


One Shopping

by sunryder



Series: Fluff Bingo [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Yes Really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23910847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunryder/pseuds/sunryder
Summary: Ilia Dragonsbane knew the outline of the One who would fill the hole in Thorin’s soul, and the moment Bilbo Baggins inserted himself between Ilia and one of his useless relatives to prevent mortal offense that would’ve ended both the Hobbit’s life and the trade agreement, she knew this was the love of her husband’s life.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Fluff Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723501
Comments: 68
Kudos: 380





	One Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> For the Fluff Bingo prompt, 'Togetherness.' 
> 
> Though, admittedly, in a really weird way.

Ilia Dragonsbane did not have a One. 

Ones were a gift known only to Durin’s line while the rest of Mahal’s children simply fell in love. 

It was important to note that Ilia did not love her husband. At least, not the way a spouse ought to love their spouse, or the way a One loved the other half of their soul.

When Erebor fell, Thror had the gall to send ravens far and wide demanding assistance from the kings of the other clans, as though they owed him tithes to atone for the dragon that Thror’s greed had brought to his door. Ilia had answered the summons as her king-father’s proxy. Though she brought food to help Thror's people through the winter, she came less to offer aide and more to see if any Dwarrow of quality could be lured away to her father’s halls in the east.

Ilia's king and council thought luring would be simple. After all, who would be fool enough to stay? Thror was mad, the Lonely Mountain was lost, Khazad-dum was overrun, and the only mountain that could house them was far to the west and so over-mined that it could not provide for long. Thror’s people would starve if they stayed, both in their bellies and their crafts. 

But, Ilia soon discovered, they were Thror’s people no longer. At least, not in heart, if still in name. The kingdom was taken, the wealth gone, and the lineage collapsing, but… there was Thorin. 

Prince Thorin was not quite old enough to be considered an adult in the traditions of their people, yet he was the Dwarf in charge. Ilia first saw him shouting at a troop of Dwarrow that, he didn’t care if they considered farming beneath them, Dain’s people needed help if they were all to be fed. He had princess Dis upon his hip -- her glower already fearsome -- and looked as though he hadn’t slept since the dragon attacked. Yet, those wizened old warriors grumbled, but obeyed. 

Thorin was not as clever as Ilia, and the early years of their marriage were spent in fights about his moral scruples over things she knew simply needed to be done. But, Thorin was no fool. He knew he was unprepared for the task before him, and that -- despite a living father and grandfather -- he was the only one for it. Still, he asked for counsel, and strangely, was humble enough to listen. 

It was the knowledge of what Thorin could be that made her offer the aid of her father’s Stiffbeard archers and Ironfist weapons to help kill a dragon and free a kingdom in exchange for the hand of Thorin Ironwill.

Thror agreed without hesitation. 

Thorin closed his eyes, swallowed back his broken heart, and accepted. 

(For all that Thorin would be a worthy king, there was something else about him that drew Ilia's loyalty, but it was not until their wedding night that she understood. Alone in her tent, when they ought to be bedding, Thorin forced himself to look up from his feet and tell Ilia that Dis and Frerin had been sharing his bedroll. He blushed and said that when he finished his.... husbandly duty, he intended to return to them and soothe the nightmares that had not stopped since Smaug. His mother had died giving birth to Dis and his grandmother long before. There was no one else, he said, and it did not cross his mind that perhaps the children's father ought to be soothing them. 

(Then Ilia had understood why she was willing to marry this boy, why she was willing to cast her mind and might behind him, to make him even greater than he would have become on his own. Yes, Thorin would a magnificent king, but more important, he would be a devoted father. 

(Ilia offered her new husband her hand and said they need not do their duty until her body was ready to carry a child, and only then. Together they had fetched the children -- lips bruised from trying not to cry -- and taken them back to the marriage bed. Ilia stayed up with them all night, sharing stories of her people while Thorin sang songs of his own. By dawn, they were a family of four.)

Ilia had never regretted their marriage, and only on his darkest nights did Thorin. However, the place in Thorin’s heart that ached for his One was quickly filled by Frain, their son, who Thorin loved with all the abandon that had lured Ilia into being his wife. 

A lack of regret did not make Ilia any more in love with her husband, or Thorin with her. They shared a bed when the mood struck them, as was the habit for friends. They each quietly took lovers, though despite Thorin’s attractions, he never took a lover that Ilia did not first bring him. Occasionally, they shared. 

Ilia had far-ranging tastes, while Thorin seemed torn between what he liked and what he thought he ought to like. A warrior king with a warrior wife should prefer prefer a Dwarf of broad of bulk and strong of arm. Their bedding should nearly be a sparring match. (Not unlike the times Dwalin knew his king needed release but was too stubborn to ask his wife, so he shoved Thorin against a wall and went for him.) Ilia knew the outline of the One who would fill the hole in Thorin’s soul, and the moment Bilbo Baggins inserted himself between Ilia and one of his useless relatives to prevent mortal offense that would’ve ended both the Hobbit’s life and the trade agreement, she knew this was the love of her husband’s life.

Bilbo managed to steer the negotiations back on course and volley the conversation to Laura Baggins, the not easily impressed head of the Baggins family, and likely the Hobbit who needed to be convinced if anyone outside of Tuckborough would trade. Ilia trusted her advisors could handle the matter and made Bilbo the center of her focus for the remainder of the meeting. He was clever, he was deft, and even if he wasn’t all of Thorin’s secret desires made flesh, Ilia would have happily worked to steal him because his people didn’t seem to understand the gift they had been given.

At the first meeting break, Frain appeared at Ilia’s side and raised an eyebrow at her silence. Frain’s face was Thorin’s, as was his sword arm, but his mind was hers. He knew something was awry, and since Ilia did not believe in lying to her child, she told him that Master Baggins was Thorin’s One.

Frain did not do her the dishonor of asking if she was certain. “Then as part of the negotiations we must ask Master Baggins and a company of his compatriots to return with us to Erebor and see if they have any advice to offer on growing our own supplies. The company might also determine if any Hobbits might like a settlement at the base of Erebor.” And if Master Baggins’ relatives chose to move to Erebor, all the better. At least they’d be there for his handfasting.

Ilia kept her hands clean of the matter, letting Frain get Bilbo named their official escort through the Shire. That put Frain in the perfect position to explain Dwarven customs to all and sundry. Of course, he made sure that when he explained the rather complicated concept of Ones, Queens, and Consorts, Bilbo was there. (Hobbits found Ones to be far too much work, while they seemed to agree with the notion of multiple spouses simply to spread around the work of child rearing.) 

In turn, Bilbo made Frain breakfast every morning and was under the misapprehension that Frain was _sweet_. (Ilia thought to warn Frain about pretending to be someone he was not when Bilbo would be with them for the rest of his life, but Frain listened to Bilbo’s tales with rapt attention. He asked a hundred questions about gardening and baking to share these skills with his soon-to-be step-father. Frain loved Bilbo’s softness the way Ilia loved Bilbo’s devious mind and she regretted they hadn’t found him sooner.)

By the time they reached Erebor, Bilbo likely would have stayed for Frain alone, though Ilia liked to believe she had won his friendship so well that he would come back for visits. 

As for Thorin, when he came to greet his wife on the balustrade above the great entrance hall, he paused to ask, “What did you do?” (The advisors who had been lurking all found things to do outside of hearing range.) A thrill shot through Ilia’s stomach every time Thorin took one look at her and knew she had done something he’d object to. 

Ilia took Thorin by the hand and dragged him to the railing where he had a clear view of Frain leading Bilbo from Dwarf to Dwarf for introductions and ignoring that Bilbo would need it all repeated since he was too swept away by the view to catch any of it. At his first sight of Bilbo, all soft and golden, Thorin tensed beneath her hand. 

“Husband of mine, I make known to you Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. He leads the Shire delegation to help us determine which crops might grow best in the Desolation and offer an opinion to his fellows about whether a settlement at the base of the mountain is feasible.”

“Ilia…” Thorin’s voice cracked.

“He is unmarried, childless, with no siblings, and his parents are dead. He likely would have come with us for the sheer adventure of it, but he was happy to trek across Middle-earth for adoration of your son.”

“He’s not—" Thorin’s knuckles went white against the railing.

Ilia did not scoff at his illogical panic. “Bilbo loves Frain as his own child, and I believe Frain could not love him more if Bilbo had been there from the beginning.”

Thorin finally tore his eyes away from the Hobbit. Neither of his parents had gifted Frain an outgoing disposition, and for all he was loved by their people, it was not the easy sort of love they held for Thorin’s siblings and their children. “Truly?”

“Truly. Even if he was not your One, I would keep him just for that.”

“You are sure?”

“Positive. I know you, Thorin.” Ilia pressed up against his side, chin rested on his shoulder so he would have to strain to hear her whisper and hang upon every word. “I know that you have taken more warriors to bed than you intended because it is expected of a king. But, I know that your eyes follow little Ori.” Thorin blushed and Ilia gripped his bicep before he could pull away. “I know you watch him for a moment before you catch yourself and turn away because a warrior should want a warrior. He shouldn’t want to have a soft, little thing in knit jumpers writhing beneath him.”

“Did…” Thorin’s voice cracked.

“Yes, I warned Master Baggins that Erebor gets cold in winter, so he brought his favorite jumpers and a bag full of crochet hooks and yarn.”

“Crochet?”

“Like knitting, but with one needle with a hook at the end. He also packed some spare yarn to teach Frain. Our son made some lumpy tubes that he says are fingerless gloves meant to go under your gauntlets. Be thrilled when he gives them to you.”

“Of course. He taught Frain to knit?”

“To crochet, and yes. Frain put his bedroll beside Bilbo’s and they sat together after dinner. Bilbo taught Frain to crochet and Frain taught Bilbo to use an Eleven dagger we discovered in a Troll hoard.”

“Trolls?”

“Don’t worry, your Bilbo outsmarted them.” Ilia tried get him back on task.

“He fought Trolls?” Thorin sounded a breath away from mounting his war ram and riding back out to destroy the entire species.

“No, he rambled at them so long they forgot the sunrise. He is clever, your Bilbo. He mediates disputes among his people, is a masterful storyteller, and I am thrilled we’re back in a place with ovens because I long for more of his scones. He questioned me quite thoroughly about how I could be married to a Dwarf I thought so well of but did not love, and after the stories Frain and I have been telling, he is half in love with you already. All you need do is be charming.”

Thorin paled. “I don’t… how do I do that?”

Ilia’s laugh echoed through the hall. “What is so funny, mother?” Frain, her darling Frain, appeared at Thorin’s back with Bilbo by his side. Thorin froze like he’d been caught unawares by a warg.

“I told Thorin that we adore dear Bilbo so much that he must be charming when I introduce him.”

“Does father know how to do that?”

“That was precisely your father’s concern.” A warrior in her own right, Ilia grabbed Thorin by the shoulders and shoved him around to face Bilbo, who said that anyone related to Ilia and Frain had to be charming by exposure, but the words died on his tongue at his first proper sight of Thorin.

By Dwarrow standards, Thorin was not much to look at, with a too short beard, a too lean face, and too blue eyes. But he’d been made for Bilbo, and the dear, sweet, gullible, soon-to-be-despoiled-and-crowned Hobbit took one look at Thorin and blushed what Ilia could now identify as tomato red.

Thorin’s shoulders straightened and certainty swallowed his terror. It was not so base as hunger, but not yet so pure as love. Instead, Thorin, her husband, her king, and father of her child, bowed deep and bid hello to his One.


End file.
